“In our family, Sundays were always spent together inside around the dining room table,” Linda said, her tone sharp and formal.

“We don’t keep family out on the grass like strangers on a strict two-hour clock,” Linda added.

“Then this part of the family will do things differently,” I said.

Linda stepped closer, her chest rising as if she were about to demand a longer explanation.

“Camila,” Richard called from under the maple tree, his voice cutting through the quiet yard.

“He remembered the wooden rattle I kept in the tool shed,” Richard called, holding up a polished maple toy.